Who's the Boss by Linda Turner

Author:Linda Turner [Turner, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2013-03-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The coffee was hot enough to melt and strong enough to strip the paint from metal.

Hunched over her kitchen table, her favorite mug cradled between her palms, Becca sipped at the steaming brew cautiously and waited for the caffeine to slip into her bloodstream and jolt her awake. But it was a two-cup morning, and she had a feeling that nothing short of battery acid was going to get her moving anytime soon.

And she had only one man to thank for that.

Riley.

Every time she'd closed her eyes last night, she'd felt the intoxicating weight of him covering her like a blanket as he'd pinned her to the mat in the high school gym. And then there were his kisses.

Kisses that haunted her, tormented her, enticed her.

Kisses that she desperately tried to convince herself were nothing out of the ordinary.

But plain, ordinary kisses didn't keep a woman awake half the night.

That thought had driven her from her bed near dawn and hadn't given her a moment's peace since. She'd lost control somewhere and she had no idea how it had happened. She'd spent the last six years of her life clinging to the conviction that she was through with romance and men, relieved that she would never have to risk her heart again. And it was all a lie.

The reason she hadn't lost sleep over someone before now wasn't because she'd written men off her list, but because she simply hadn't met one who could tempt her. Lord, what was she going to do?

Before she could even begin to come up with an answer, there was a soft knock at her back door and Clara's sweet, familiar voice called out,

"Yoo-hoo Becca? Are you up, dear?"

"No," she called back with a weak laugh, "but come on in anyway. The door's open."

That was all the invitation Clara needed. The screen door squeaked open and she rushed in like a ball of energy, completely unmindful of the fact that it was barely eight o'clock in the morning. Already decked out in her favorite pearls and a dove gray dress that draped her plump figure becomingly, she looked as neat as a bandbox, her cheeks softly colored with rouge and every one of her white curls in place.

With a smile as bright as the sunshine that streamed in through the east windows, she said, "I'm so glad you're an early bird like I am, dear."

Making herself at home, she took her favorite mug from the cabinet and poured a cup of coffee.

"I've been dying to talk to you ever since the competition last night, but I knew you were busy with people afterward and I didn't want to disturb you.

And then you didn't get home until late—I wasn't spying," she quickly assured her, "but I would have sworn I heard something outside. You know, I really think one of us should get a dog. I don't know why I haven’t thought of it sooner, but we are very isolated out here.

She was wound up and excited and in the mood to talk.

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